Last week, a company in England
sent us an email praising our “delightfully bonkers” cards, I was CRUSHED because our cards are super sincere! They wanted to know if they could letterpress print/distribute them across the pond. I’ve heard people call the Atlantic Ocean a pond and I think it’s WAY bigger than a pond – COME ON, PEOPLE!! This was perfect timing because I make all the decisions about my house based on whatever is happening with Zeichen Press and I really needed a place to practice my John Philip Sousa marches!Thanks to my son-in-law this will be a rug-shaker AND marching-practice balcony – FINALLY.
To celebrate (after high-fiving Jen), I made a card:
And Kim Jong Un came out of his coma to share this wish: (What a trooper!)
Remember when your little sister was born so your parents sent you (and your impossibly short shorts) and your little brother to stay with your Aunt Patricia on the Cape?? REMEMBER THAT??
Oh… THAT WAS MY OWN PERSONAL MEMORY.
I think Ernest Hemingway said something about going bankrupt gradually and then suddenly – isn’t that the way with so many things?? First you are just a sister and the next thing you know, you’re on an airplane telling an old woman that you will for sure write to her but then feel guilty about talking to a stranger and crumple up her address and throw it in the Boston airport trash can.
Speaking of old women (wait, what?), here’s a Valentine. (Wait, what?)
This baby was in a dresser-drawer. And just like a good Lifetime movie (sans the kidnapping and murder) we adopted her!
Oh, I kid (and twerk)! She’s just the best living-toy ever – and already nicknamed “Winnie”!
She’s pretty cute.
In the 1950’s, my Mom wrote (and sent!) postcards to her family and I have them (just for blackmail.) Ahh, the 1950’s… all the dads hula-hooped to work and the moms fixed wounds and cracks using silly-putty! (That’s historically accurate.)
• • • • • •
Dear Zeichen Press,
I have kept up on all happenings by watching YouTube and censored dot tv videos and am I tired!
Francis had to go further to get ice to crush because the service station nearby was burned by the peaceful protestors.
Ask Jen to forgive me for never writing to her.
• • • • • •
ENOUGH OF THESE DISTRACTIONS!!
Someone (WHO??) told me I am LUCKY to live in these times. Umm, I don’t feel lucky. My body always knows what’s up and that’s why my heart (my “hizart” in ebonics, I think.) was beating 177 times per minute!
Oh! According to three doctors and exactly two blood draws, it turns out my thyroid was doing that! Nothing some methimazole can’t fix!
CARRY ON! (My wayward son!)
PS: Ilhan Omar told us we didn’t need the police – I couldn’t agree more and these two ALSO agree!
Has anyone seen the Blessed Unrest out there?? I’ve been avoiding CNN and get all my news from Censored dot TV, Michael Knowles, Timothy Gordon, and The Facts of Life.
Between my current-event-studies, I checked my white privilege and made a really important card:
Oh, also – Ralph really gets it!
Yes, I WILL survive!
First, I watched some Survivorman for inspiration.
And then I designed something.
~ George Orwell
AND it’s Franmas! Oh, ANNND it’s also a little thing called Easter, or whatever.
I seem to be full of tiny revolutions, wait… how can a joke be a tiny revolution?? Are wet-markets full of bat-soup or Chinese bio-weapons funny?? Is my Mom’s “End the shutdown!” name-tag funny?? NO. But you know what is funny??
THERE, I SAID IT.I read the book ‘1984’ actually in 1984.
George Orwell wrote about dystopian fictional government overreach and totalitarianism. Oh, George! You’re so Orwellian!
And here’s my joke:
And here’s ANOTHER joke:
HAHAHA!! Right?? *An emoji would be perfect here.
And this might take your mind off the pandemic for 2 seconds.
And because I’m a giver, here are 2 more seconds:
Speaking of France, I was on Amazon late last night shopping for a bidet attachment. Did I buy one?? NO. BECAUSE I’M A RED-BLOODED AMERICAN.
Sometimes neighbors can be enemies – just like Canada! J/K, Canada is not our enemy! Mexico is! Too political??
There was a granny who lived down our block and every other weekend her grandkids came to stay with her. Their last name was Bestman but we secretly called them the Worstmans. (It might be because we hated them?? Once my older sister and her friend pointed corn cob holders threateningly at them across Vincent Avenue. It was just like West Side Story without the Tony Award-winning music, choreographed dance numbers, Puerto Ricans, and doomed love!)
The “fight” fizzled out (aka Mrs. Heefner asked us what we thought we were doing) and the next Winter the Bestman house caught on fire and all of their Christmas presents burned up! My Mom told me that one of the boys (Miles) was playing with matches in the attic.
I guessed my parents didn’t know about our turf rivalry because they bought them a bunch of stuff. I was jealous but acted like I wasn’t because I had already had my First Confession/First Communion.